


Sea Song

by Stormchild



Category: Young Justice (Cartoon), Young Justice (Comics), Young Justice - All Media Types
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-06
Updated: 2015-05-06
Packaged: 2018-03-29 09:13:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,516
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3890788
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Stormchild/pseuds/Stormchild
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“You aren’t the only clone on this roof.”</p><p>How Jim Harper came to be a clone of Roy Harper. Basically his arc in New Krypton Saga modified for Young Justice. Mild violence and a lot of swearing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sea Song

**Author's Note:**

> Title is from Sea Song by Apocalyptica, the song I was listening to while I wrote this.

Jim pulls his helmet off and sets it on the kitchen table. He peels off the rest of his costume, an improved version of the one his grandfather, also Jim Harper - the first Guardian - wore. Despite the Kevlar, Jim can feel bruises forming on his side. 

He sits on the couch with a bottle of whiskey and his first aid kit. The news is on in the background. He listens absently until a name catches his attention. 

"- Harper, adopted son of California billionaire Oliver Queen, is still missing. He was abducted late last month and so far, police haven't made any arrests. Anyone with information on Roy Harpers whereabouts is encouraged to contact Star City police at-" 

She prattles off a number that Jim is too distracted to hear. There's a picture of Roy on the screen, young and baby-faced and smiling. Harper was probably a common name - wasn't there a singer or something named Roy Harper? - but Jim couldn't deny the uncanny resemblance. 

Roy didn't much look like Jim's brother. Roy Sr. had had darker hair and higher cheekbones and his eyes had never been so bright. But Jim swore on his shield that the kid on the TV could have been him at fourteen. 

Jim had been much younger than his older brother. A surprise, he'd once been called, long after his parents thought they couldn't have any more kids. Roy Sr. Was already an adult when they died, though hardly equipped to raise a child of a brother, and he moved to California to work. Jim was sent to foster care, and Roy died a few years later. 

In hindsight, it was absolutely possible for Jim to have a nephew he didn't know about. It was worth looking into. 

\-- 

"Slow night?" Clark asks, landing on the roof where Jim is perched. 

"Looks like," Jim says. "I'm not going to jinx it, though." 

"I didn’t know you were superstitious." 

"Only a little," Jim grins. 

It's nice out. Quieter than Metropolis usually is. Crime is down some small percent, nothing short of a miracle with Met PD's corruption. It makes him sick, makes him wonder why he thought following in his grandfather's footsteps was a good idea. Not that he could have been much other than a cop with his grades. College wasn't an option. So he dealt with it how he could, the same way he'd heard stories of the original Guardian of Metropolis dealing with it. They shared more than just a name. 

Clark and Jim chat a bit. Small talk, mostly. They get along as well as any vigilantes in the same city do. They just don't talk much. Jim prefers Black Lightning's company - he doesn't wince when Jim shows that half his vocabulary is swears - and Clark spends most of his time on League business anyway. 

"Listen," Jim says after a while, "you remember when I declined your offer to join the League, how you said to ask if I needed anything?" 

Clark nods.

"Both offers still stand. You've been at this longer than some members, and we could really use your skills." 

"Yeah, all that crap. I'm happy here. But I do need something. I don't have the same resources the League does." 

Clark nods, silently encouraging Jim to continue. 

"You hear about that missing teenager out in California, presumably kidnapped by some fuckhole?" 

"I heard. What about him?" 

"I know you guys usually handle bigger crap, but I figured the League might be able to find him. I can't do shit from across the friggen country. Not that I haven't tried." 

"I'll see what I can do," Clark says slowly. 

He doesn't mention that said teenager is Green Arrow's protege, that they've already done everything they could to find him. 

"He's my nephew." 

Clark's stomach twists. Jim as good as told him his identity. And Roy's been missing seven weeks. 

He brings it up at the next meeting. Ollie, blue eyes tired behind his mask, perks up at the idea of having renewed help at finding the kid he lost, and sinks when he realizes that kid is another hero's blood. They'd all thought he had no family left. It makes it harder to point out they're stretched thin as is. 

Barry wonders to himself if they would be stretched too thin if his own nephew ever went missing. 

"We will do what we can," Diana says, and they leave it at that. 

\-- 

"Wait! Wait, I- I know somethin' you mi' wanna'." 

Jim pauses, narrowing his eyes behind his helmet and dropping his fist just a little. No matter what this guy knows, it won't make up for dealing to kids. But Jim's willing to listen. Not that it will stop him breaking his asshole's nose and dropping him off on the nearest precinct's doorstep. 

"About what?" 

"That missing Queen kid. Rumor's got it you're lookin' for 'im." 

"And you know something about it." 

The dealer nods. 

"See, they says the League of Shadows took 'im." 

"The League of Shadows," Jim says sceptically. "A team of assassins from the fucking Middle East kidnapped a trust fund kid from California." 

"An' took him to Washington." 

"Are you high or something?" 

The dealer shakes his head. 

"No, sir. I know what's in that shit. I ain't fucking here. I hear they took 'im to this place. Science lab. Some Greek myth name. Prometheus or some shit. They says they do research, but they got some fucked up shit goin' on there." 

It sounds insane. It probably is. But there doesn't seem to be any harm in following up with it. 

"City or state?" 

"Both?" 

So Jim spends six hours in front of his laptop looking up research facilities in Washington - city and state - with a Wikipedia page of Greek mythology figures open. He eventually falls on Cadmus. It's the only name that matches Wikipedia. One of the facilities is in Washington the city. 

\-- 

Getting into Cadmus feels too easy. A back door is propped open, a security guard smoking a few feet away. 

The building is massive, and he has no idea where to start. He hardly thinks he can walk up to the front desk and asked where they keep kidnapped teenagers. He moves around quietly, trying to figure out where the fuck he's going. Leaving the Kevlar at home suddenly seems like a terrible idea. But he's here now. All he's here to do is get information and get out. No fights planned. 

But things so rarely go as planned. 

A clicking sound has Jim whirling around. He almost misses the source. A small... thing sitting on the ground. 

"What the fuck are you?" Jim mumbles. 

The little whatever that Jim decides looks like a Gary stares at him for a few seconds and turns away, hobbling down the hall on stumpy legs. 

"Where are you going?" 

Gary doesn't respond. Not that Jim really expects him to. He follows, mostly because Gary seems to know this place better than he does. 

The sinking feeling in his stomach gets worse and worse as they move to the sub-sub-sub-basement and he's hit with the sudden realization that no one knows where he is. He didn't tell anyone, and he's not getting any cell reception down here. 

"We shouldn't be here," he whispers. 

A set of doors opens. Jim walks through them and his blood runs cold. 

Rows and rows of pods and tubes line the room. He's sure his heart pounding in his chest is audible. 

Most of the pods and tubes are empty. The rest... It makes Jim want to vomit. He makes the sign of the cross, and curls his finger around the silver crucifix handing from his neck. 

"Jesus fucking Christ," he breathes. 

At the end of the hall is two Roys, one in a pod and one in a tube. The one in the pod is missing half an arm. 

Jim swallows down the urge to vomit. 

"What the fuck is this...? What the fucking _fuck_..." 

"This, my dear Mr. Harper, is the future of cloning technology." 

Jim can see Lex's reflection in the glass. He isn't alone. His companions are armed, and Jim knows he isn't walking out of this alive. 

"Cloning," he repeats. 

So the second Roy must be a clone, he thinks. 

"Why? Why Roy?" 

"Your nephew has the perfect genetics for cloning. With his DNA, we have accomplished what we never could before in only three months." 

"Why clone him, though? Why clone my nephew, you crazy son of a bitch?" 

He wants to punch Luthor right in the face. He's going to die anyway. There's no way out of this. But he needs answers. 

"Simple. We are going to use him to infiltrate the Justice League. After all, he is Green Arrow's sidekick." 

A small, proud smile tugs at Jim's lips. So his brother's kid is a hero too. Good for him. 

"So who's we?" 

"Now I don't want to give too much away." 

"What do you want to do with him?" Someone asks. 

"Clone him and kill him. Leave no evidence he was here." 

Jim swallows. He feels a lot calmer than he should. He doesn't want to be a part of this lunacy. He won't let them use him, and he won't let them keep using Roy. 

There's a control panel next to Roy's pod. Jim raises his hand to smash it. If nothing else, fixing it will be an inconvenience. 

He doesn't have time to process the shot. The burning comes suddenly, and breathing becomes difficult. He hears Luthor shouting, ordering someone to download his memories and something else he doesn't hear. He tries to brace himself on the pod, leaving a bloody handprint on the glass. For a second, he swears he can see the clone looking at him. But his vision is swimming. 

There's no flash of memories, no white light. Just a mix of burning and freezing and searing pain. There's nothing dramatic about it. He slips onto the floor, choking on the blood filling his lungs. His fingers wrap around the crucifix. It only takes a few seconds. 

The moment Jim Harper stops breathing, the room becomes silent. There's a hum of machines and the sound of footsteps and Gary clicking from his spot on the cold floor but the silence from the corpse drowns it all out. 

\-- 

"The subject's DNA is too degraded to produce a clone. This is the best one and, well, see for yourself." 

The words don't quite prepare Luthor for what happens when the pod opens. The clone looks half-mangled. But it moves fast, running to the double mirror almost as if it knows it's there. An inhuman shriek makes Luthor grimace. The clone smashes its head against the glass until blood and brain matter splatters across it. 

"I see." 

It comes out more shaky than Luthor would have liked. He clears his throat to regain his composure. 

"Make another clone of Roy Harper. Make any modifications to his DNA necessary. Age him to Jim Harpers age. They look enough alike. We cannot have any more delays with this. Someone like The Guardian goes missing this long, people start asking questions." 

\-- 

Jim stares at the ceiling for a long few minutes. He blinks slowly. He doesn't feel much. He wonders if he's dead, then wonders why he'd think that. 

It takes a moment for his surroundings to register. 

"Morning sunshine." 

Jim looks over to his side, his stare a little blank. Yup, he's definitely in a hospital. 

"What...?" 

"You got shot in the head," Jefferson explains. "You are one lucky asshole, you know that?" 

"I don't- How?" 

"No idea. Your memory might be spotty." He pauses. "You do know who I am, right?" 

"Black-" 

No, they're in civvies. Jim can't call him that. 

"Nice to know you aren't colorblind." 

"It's a good thing you aren't white, I wouldn't be able to see you with these frigging walls." 

Jefferson snorts. 

"You were whiter than these sheets when I first came in. You might want to consider a career change."

Jim snorts. 

"Clearly." 

"Oh- I almost forgot. They found your nephew." 

\-- 

Amanda gives him and Roy her security pass so no one knows they're in the labs. She doesn't think they'll find anything. But Roy's good with computers. If there's anything to find, he'll find it. 

"Project Auron... that sound familiar to you?" 

Jim pulls his lips down and shakes his head. 

"Never heard of it. What is it?" 

"Let's see." 

Roy opens the file and skims it. It's short, written in the same shorthand he uses when he writes. He feels himself growing cold. 

"Shit... oh, _shit_..." 

"What is it?" Jim asks. 

"I don't think you should see this." 

"Roy," Jim says in a stern voice. "Just tell me what the fuck it is." 

Roy bites his nail, a habit he's only picked up recently. 

"It's- It's you. You're a clone, too. Of the real Roy." 

Jim gives a slow nod. He'd considered the possibility, but it still feels like he's been punched in the gut. 

"Jim... they cloned you from Roy because the original Jim Harper is dead. He found Roy and- and me and they shot him." 

"When?" 

"About two months into Roy being kidnapped. Hey, turns out I'm actually older than you," Roy laughs, choked and on the verge of tears. 

Jim swallows thickly. 

"Did you know about this?" He demands. 

Roy opens his mouth to ask how the fuck he would know, until he notices Dubbilex. 

"I did." 

"And you didn't think I should know? I never minded you keeping secrets, I always trusted your judgment. But I thought we were friends." 

"Would it have accomplished anything?" 

"It would have been a fucking hell of a lot nicer to know sooner! Anything else I should know?" 

"Besides your brother's recent opiate use?" 

Roy straightens up. 

"Yes, besides - What? - besides my dead brother's - Wait, that Roy? - besides that." 

"You will find nothing on the source Roy's whereabouts here. The Light has made sure of that." 

"Good to fucking know." 

"I, too, consider us friends, Guardian." 

Jim fixes Roy with a hard stare. He can't believe he never noticed he signs. Or maybe he did, but didn't want to see them. He wonders why he's looking for a nephew that's more than likely been dead for years when he has a living nephew who clearly needs him. 

"If you hear anything-" 

"You will be the first to know." 

\-- 

Jim stares at Roy, and Roy stares at Jim. The height difference feels a little ridiculous. It's even bigger than the height difference between Jim and Red. 

If not for this scowl, Roy might actually be cute. 

"So you're the Guardian everyone makes such a big deal of." 

"I wouldn't say big de-" 

"I thought you'd be taller." 

Jim blinks, and raises an eyebrow in confusion. 

"I'm 6 fucking foot 2. You're barely 5 feet. How tall you want me to be?" 

Roy narrows his eyes, glaring up at him. Finally, he gives a small shrug. 

"I guess you're all right."

**Author's Note:**

> If you liked this story, consider [buying me a coffee](https://ko-fi.com/A0034VT) and supporting my original work.


End file.
